


Time's Running Out

by Vforthesoul



Category: Sons of Anarchy
Genre: Confession, Fluff, Gen, Love, M/M, Season 7 Spoilers, Season Six Spoilers, angst??? not really, fluff if you squint, season five spoilers, so many spoilers i'm warning you if you haven't finished off season six god, spoiler city
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-08
Updated: 2014-11-12
Packaged: 2018-02-24 14:57:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,729
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2585603
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vforthesoul/pseuds/Vforthesoul
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jarry gets Chibs in to meet Juice in prison.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Was it Gemma, in the kitchen, with a meatfork?

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and Kudos appreciated! :D
> 
> Like I've tagged there are some serious spoilers so you've been warned. 
> 
> I'm also not sorry for my Clue reference chapter title. :)

“We need to talk.” 

“Aye. Tha’s why you called to meet me ‘ere.” Chibs pulled a cigarette out as he leaned against the vehicle and stared ahead. 

Perhaps Jarry was expecting more of a warmer welcome, but she soon realized she wasn’t going to be receiving any of that right now. 

“Okay, then,” she straightened her stance as she moved in front of Chibs’ gaze to make him look to her. “I need to ask you a few things about Juan Carlos.”

Any mention of Juice instantly caused Chibs to stiffen and his mood turn sour. He had hundreds of unsettled feelings and opinions towards the boy that he just couldn’t settle or sit right with. Not attempting to fix, settle, or even think about any of those issues was definitely the reason why nothing settled for him. He settled with constant anger, ignoring any and all other feelings of despair and anguish, or even broken love, towards the situation in it’s entirety. 

Juice had betrayed Chibs. It didn’t matter about the club to him. Juice had come to Chibs with everything for years. The boy had confided in him with each and every worry or thought about his life, his past, and the club that had ever crossed his mind. Juice had no troubles telling Chibs he loved him, in the most romantic ways possible, and he had had no trouble pushing feelings aside to support Chibs in Ireland. But then, then he had no troubles omitting information about his father, Roosevelt, and had completely hid everything from Chibs. 

That’s what set Chibs off: the lying, the secrets, and the betrayal of trust. Juice had lied to Chibs’ face and refused to talk to him. Talk to him about shit that could have been avoided, understood, fought for. He had just let Chibs’ trust and love go, and Chibs didn’t think Juice had even thought twice about it. Just up and did it. He abandoned their friendship, the relationship, and their love- everything with little to absolutely no real explanation. 

“Absolutely no’,” Chibs grumbled in quite a deep unfriendly accent. “The rat bastard’s locked up, doin’ his duty for the club.” 

Jarry crossed her arms. She wasn’t going to let up that easily. Though she didn’t know Chibs very well, or even at all, she wasn’t afraid of the Scotsman or his temper. 

“There’s pieces that don’t line up in my investigation of Tara’s murder, Filip.”

“No, lass,” Chibs shook his head and took a drag of his cigarette, “I’m not talkin’ ‘bout this.” 

“Hear me out, Filip. Gemma says that Chinese killed Tara, and that she’s the only one who saw that or knew the information before she told Jax and the club. Juice had been MIA, right? He had no intel, but he sat down with me and Unser and gave up a name for Tara’s murder. The Chinese guy’s. I asked Gemma and she said she had no contact with Juice, but Oaktown said something about Gemma’s SUV being at the Mayan’s garage.”

Chibs was silent as he let the words Jarry was saying work through his brain. He stubbed the cigarette out and only then did he glance at the woman before looking out through the garage. 

“Wha’re you’re tellin’ me is you think Gemma and Juice had contact while Juice was MIA?” Chibs gave a dark chuckle and ran his fingers through his hair. 

“I think Gemma is hiding something. Unser thinks so, too.” 

“Why you tellin’ me this, Jarry?” Chibs was growing annoyed with hearing the Sheriff brainstorm out loud to him. It was wasting precious time with a favorite amber liquid. 

Jarry sighed, “You should talk to him. I can get you visitation. He trusts you.”

Chibs pushed off of the car then looked Jarry square in the face, “An’ get what from him? What truth you lookin’ for? The Chinese killed Tara. Juice ran like a coward.” 

“You’re not hearing me, Filip. I don’t think the Chinese killed Tara and I think Juan knows that, and knows who really killed her.” 

“Juice?”

“No,” Jarry gave a shake of her head. “You’re set up with a meet with him in an hour. Go alone. Don’t tell Jax.” 

“Wha’ am I s’posed to tell Quinn, or the guys, this meet was for?”

“Well I was hoping you’d fuck me on the hood of the car, but that’s off the table now. You’ll figure it out, Scotty.” 

***

It took a lot of willpower for Chibs to drive himself and his bike to the prison Juice was in. It took even more for him to drag his sorry ass inside and tell the officer who he was there to see and slide an envelope through the glass. 

Chibs didn’t know what he was doing here. He was nervous and craving the comforts of the scotch he knew was in the clubhouse waiting for him to make love with until he couldn’t sit up straight on a barstool and passed out in a booth at the ice cream shop. 

Dealing with Juice, talking to Juice, asking questions, and thinking about what Jarry said had his head spinning seven different ways. He missed the stupid liar, and he was pretty sure that’s why he beat himself up so hard over the broken relationship. 

Cautiously and slowly he followed the guards to the room where he had his meet. He was relieved when he was the first one in the room and sat down on one of the chairs. Could he smoke in here? He needed a fucking joint and twenty cigarettes to even begin calming his nerves. 

Just as he was about to see if he could break the rules there was a buzzing noise, a door opening, and a stone cold looking man in an orange jump suit walking in. 

When Juice looked up from his feet and saw who was sitting before him he stopped, looked to the guard, then to the mirrored window, “Get me out of here. I don’t want to meet with him.” 

“Too bad, inmate.” The guard yanked Juice foreword then chained his cuffs to the chair. 

Chibs could hardly recognize Juice. His hair was growing back, but that wasn’t it. It was the ice in his eyes and lack of expression in his face that suggested a new identity, a new person… someone Chibs hadn’t fallen in love with. Someone Chibs really didn’t know. Suddenly he found himself regretting not talking to Juice in the cop diner, or hounding on him earlier to just come clean. 

The guards left and the clock started ticking. 25 minutes suddenly wasn’t enough. He had more cash for more time if needed, but he didn’t have enough cash for a lifetime of time. 

“What do you want?” 

Juice was the first to break the silence, his voice guarded and distant. 

Chibs just watched him and let himself reminisce for a short moment. Man, he truly missed the man before him. 

What seemed like eternity, but was only two minutes, Chibs cleared his throat and began on what he was here for. 

“Jarry has some suspicions,” Chibs set his face in V.P. expression and tapped his fingers silently on the table. “You see, you gave her the name of the Chinese who killed Tara. Gemma, an’ the club, are the only ones who knew. Being AWOL, you wouldn’t have known. No club Intel. How’d you know?”

“Jax told me.” Juice gave a breathy chuckle and leaned forward. “Is that what you’re hear for, Chibs? To ask me about some plot hole?”

“No, lad,” Chibs pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. “I think you know the Chinese didn’ kill Tara,” Chibs also let out a long sigh. Juice knew it was the internal beef battle Chibs was having with himself. He had done it while they argued before and while he talked about his opinion on things, etc. 

Chibs held up his hand to stop Juice from saying anything else. “She’s also sayin’ you can give a murder weapon, and iss’ location.” Chibs sighed again but this time much shorter.

Chibs leaned forward, hesitated, then closed his hands around Juice’s cuffed ones. A million and five emotions rushed through him and he honestly felt like crying like a baby. However, dealing with all of those neglected feelings was not what he was here for. 

The hands beneath his own had jerked slightly before Chibs felt them relax and maneuver around to take Chibs’ hands in his, bringing them up to his lips and kept them there. Chibs let his head drop as he let the feeling of the boy touching him warm his heart like the frozen over puddle he was. 

“Come clean ta me, Juicey. Please, boy. I can help yeh. I will help yeh.” Chibs lifted his head to stare right into Juice’s eyes. The boy’s hadn’t eased up too much from their guard, but there was a glint of the familiar Juice that Chibs knew. “Trust me, brotha’. Trust me, Juice. Come back to me.” 

The pleading hadn’t been in Chibs’ plan to break Juice’s guard and have him spill the beans, but he couldn’t hold his façade to the other boy much longer. He was only as good of an actor as his heart would let him until he would break. Chibs was breaking quickly. The pressure from the club, Jax, Jarry, Marks, and Bobby… it was all fucking him up. 

Juice took in a hitched breath and let it out shakily. The image before him of the Scot breaking down so quickly after so long of holding deep anger inside of him changed Juice’s perspective and plan. 

“Okay,” he said quietly, “I need you to do something for me first.” 

“Aye?” Chibs pulled his hands back to himself as he sat back in his seat, his features slowly but surely hiding the emotion he had let show before as his V.P. expression started regaining posture on his face. 

“Do you still love me?” 

Chibs let out a chuckle and stood up, circling around the table, then took Juice’s face in his hands to look into those big eyes he loved so dearly. He didn’t know if the room was bugged, he guessed it was, and he found himself not caring. 

This was the first time Chibs truly felt, and decided, his loyalties to Jax falter a considerable amount. After all of this, all Juice needed to know was if Chibs still loved him. 

Chibs closed the space between their faced and pressed his lips firmly against Juice’s own. He let his unsettled emotions pour through the muscles that guide his lips, his tongue darting out to lick along Juice’s, entering when allowed to re-explore the cavity he knew so well. He felt Juice’s tongue against his own, his lips working with his, and could feel the labored breath Juice was nursing through his nose. 

The Scotsman didn’t know if this was manipulation on either of their spectrums. He felt like holding the upper hand of leverage of their, was then not so much now, secret love was kind of shitty. He tried to remind himself they were both playing the same hand against each other, though. Juice had asked, Chibs had been there because of it, now it was confirmed. 

Chibs now pulled his chair around to the same side of the table as Juice. If there were rules about where cons and patrons visiting were allowed to sit he wasn’t sure what they were, or if anyone cared. Perhaps when the room was paid off by an ex con outlaw and a Sheriff no one really gave a shit. 

“Juice,” Chibs spoke quietly. His hand was on the other’s inner thigh and his lips ghosting over his ear, “Time’s runnin’ out. Tell me, love.” 

Chibs felt Juice’s body stiffen for the truth he was about to tell. He knew he was going to get it the way Juice’s body was reacting to what his mind was running through. How to word the truth, Chibs guessed.

“A meat fork,” he spoke quietly, his voice distant in the memory. His eyes watered involuntarily as he spoke. “I was stopping by to check on Tara and Roosevelt.” He didn’t know if the full truth was something he could fess to.

“When I got inside Gemma was on the floor next to Tara and Roosevelt’s body.”


	2. I'll Confess.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What happens after Juice finally tells the truth? Chibs' eyes open and his emotions come out in a way he would have never predicted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The same spoilers apply for the previous chapter, but if you've gotten this far I'm sure you've already prepared yourself. 
> 
> I had a nice time writing this. I hope it's still good and enjoyable like the first chapter was for a bunch of you! I'm also a little nervous the characteristics were off, but I tried to rationalize within the spin of the character. 
> 
> Comments are appreciated! Thank you for reading!!

Juice began laughing after the words left his mouth. It was a manic, uneasy, eerie laugh. Tears filled his eyes and laughter broke the walls with shrill shatters as his voice echoed between the walls. 

“It was Gemma!” he laughed, his eyes bugged out wide and hands shaking. “It was fucking Gemma, holy shit,” he was a mixture of sobs and laughter. 

His face changed instantly for a moment, “How? How you ask?” He turned his head as if he were talking to someone beside him. 

“With a fucking meat fork,” he laughed out. 

“ ‘Help me, Juice. Sweetheart. What have I done?’” He mimicked the conversation in a quick manner with a faux female voice. 

“ ‘It’s okay, Gem. I got this. Gotta clear the murder weapon and your boots. Gotta help me out, Gem. Gotta hide from Jax and the club.’” Juice was looking through Chibs. Not at him, not around him, but through him as he spoke. Totally tuned into whatever image was playing in his mind, barely even sitting with conscious recognition of the other man’s presence. 

“ I didn’t want to die, Gemma,” Juice sounded as though he was actually talking to Gemma, now, as if she was in the room. “I still don’t. These voices in my head aren’t stopping. I think and I think and I continue to think and nothing is matching up. I have to kill someone innocent of a crim for you, Gem, and you were going to kill me!” 

Juice barked out a laugh and was suddenly standing up and gripping the table white knuckle. His face was manic, looking right at Chibs but still not there. 

“I have to kill for you! You stupid, lying bitch! Look what your lying has done!” Juice was screaming now. “No one believes me because I’m a fucking untrusted rat! Why would Jax’s mother kill Tara?!” He was screaming, crying, jerking the table, and still far away from the current world around him. 

Chibs had gotten up and stepped back from Juice, unsure of what to do. He didn’t know what Juice was doing, or where he was, but he wanted to hear what the kid was saying. What if he never spoke about it again? Maybe playing their love as an upper hand was the wrong thing to do. 

“YOU FUCKING KILLED ME,” Juice screamed at the top of his lungs, raw emotion pouring out of his soul as tears streamed down his face, his hand slapped his chest. 

Chibs ran over to Juice to grab him by his shoulders to shake him to the present. 

“Don’t you fucking to-!” Juice’s fist was quick to catch Chibs’ chin in an uppercut, sending the older man tumbling back. Chibs was fast over to the door, knocking on it hard. 

“Guards!” He yelled with actual fear in his voice. Who would have thought: Chibs yelling with a hint of fear? Chibs: the outlaw killing V.P. criminal was reduced to a fearing man against one Juice Ortiz with a bloody mouth from biting his tongue from the uppercut. 

Within an instant the Guards had their attentions to the cameras, Juice was approaching Chibs as far as he could go and all of a sudden there were guards everywhere swarming in to remove Chibs from the room and restrain Juice. 

The rough contact from the guards snapped Juice back to the room. He registered Chibs bleeding and the guards yelling at him to ‘Calm down, Inmate!’ and moving his cuffs to behind his body and pressing him against the wall. 

“Chibs?” Juice’s voice was hoarse, confused. “What happened?” 

“C’mon, Ortiz. That gets you one week solitary.” 

Juice was struggling again to free himself from the guards, “Chibs! No, No! Brother, what did I do?! Let me see him!” Juice thrashed his body around as the guards struggled to contain him. “Don’t let me go! Don- I don’t want to see him anymore! Get the fuck off of me!” Juice went to head butt one of the guards then was suddenly restrained tightly against a much larger, muscular guard. 

“That’s enough, inmate,” another said as he approached Juice, injecting something into his arm that made Chibs try to advance towards the men but was stopped by the entrance guard whom had come through the opposite door to escort him out. 

Tears filled Juice’s eyes as he found Chibs in his gaze, “Chibs, no.. don’-“ he fell under the spell of the tranquilizing serum quickly and was hauled off. 

As Chibs was escorted out of the meeting room the guard told him an infirmary nurse would have to check the wound and Chibs would have to meet with an officer to give a statement about what happened. All he could do was say ‘Aye’ and agree to whatever was going to happen. Whether he would talk when the meeting came was still up in the air, but he could hardly think straight after seeing Juice so… manic. 

***

It was about an hour before he was cleaned up by the prison infirmary nurse and finally sitting in a room waiting for an officer to get his statement. 

He couldn’t say he was surprised when Sheriff Jarry walked into the room. 

“Filip,” Jarry began as she sat down, “I didn’t expect to be called in because the prison needs your statement about an inmate becoming physically violent with you during a paid off room visit.” 

Chibs gave a heartless breath of a chuckle. He hadn’t expected any of that shit to go down, either. Chibs had learned, while getting to know Juice more intimately, that the boy was easily influenced and needed honesty. He also knew the boy was too good, too innocent, and too honest for the Sons. When the club started getting in deeper, Chibs had suggested the boy transfer to a different charter. One that didn’t run guns or webbed with so many lies. Juice refused, taking it as an insult that Chibs didn’t think he could hold his own. For a while, they both believed Juice could hold his own and be as tough as the club needed. But then a case of rabid monkeys opened under Clay’s rule and Juice wasn’t just the hacker of the club and he was pulled in too far to understand. 

It wasn’t Stockton that had fucked Juice up. Not the first time, the boy could handle a stabbing, and maybe the second time fucked with him a little bit. It had been 14 months inside and there were things that happened that Chibs couldn’t protect the man from. Juice came out different in the club’s eyes, but to Chibs he could see through it all. Not that he could understand, but he could just see through it all. 

The Scotsman also learned that Juice was abused and manipulated as a child. From the age of eight to eighteen the boy had been sexually abused, beat, and manipulated into a victim of never being good enough, and always considered a fuck up. Chibs remembered the pride Juice held when he explained how he got good with computers to calm his anxiety and fear and started hacking bank accounts to get enough money to get him out of there. 

When he had enough skills and money he bought a bike and headed west with the past bottled inside of him. 

Chibs had a feeling with Juice never properly dealing with his childhood, that there was a strong hold over him whenever abuse, lying, or manipulation hit him it would fuck him up. And it did. It fucked him up so bad. The Scotsman had been so wrapped up in his pride for the club, for Clay, and for Jax, he had forgotten and held no pity for Juice- for the man whom had made Chibs feel like a fucking human being again. Juice: the man who made Chibs love another soul more than he had thought he loved Fiona. He had held no pity for Juice. 

Not until he had seen the boy so gone and so raw. It had taken a psychotic break from Juice to open Chibs’ eyes. 

It was a funny thing how anger, love, and pride fogged the truth and any ounce of sympathy for someone. If Chibs had just stopped to think about Juice, his past, and what had presently been going on maybe he could have saved the boy before all of this. Needless to say, Chibs was feeling awfully guilty and awfully helpless. 

Chibs loved Juice for everything that stupid man was for. For all his faults and all his instability, and most importantly for all the love Juice had for everything and everyone. This love he had for him was making his head spin, spin, spin. 

He hadn’t felt this vulnerable and light headed since Jimmy O first surfaced and fucked his life up. This was not good. 

“Filip. Filip?” Jarry waved her hand in front of Chibs’ eyes to bring him into the room. 

“Aye,” his accent was thick, his voice low, and distant. 

“What happened in there? I watched the video, no sound, but things seemed to have been going well then Juice appears to have snapped. Can you tell me why? What did he say to you, Filip?” 

Chibs leaned forward in his chair and ran his hands through his hair. 

“I need ta think abou’ this, Jarry.” 

“What is there to think about, Filip? An inmate assaulted you. I need to know what tipped him off.” 

“Yeh need ta do somethin’ feh me, Althea. Yeh need ta get that boy in ta see a shrink,” Chibs closed his eyes as he rubbed his hands over his face. He felt like his brain had been hit with eighty tons of pressure. 

“Well isn’t that obvious, Chibs?” 

“Donnat get short wit’ me,” Chibs lifted his head to look straight to the woman. “I need ta make a deal with yeh.” 

“I’m listening.” 

He smirked some at her eagerness to help him out. At what cost would she go to help him? Help the club stay whole for the sake of Charming? 

“I can give you a name, a murder weapon, and a witness to Gemma’s murder that will help yeh figure out your s’picions. I only give yeh that if yeh transfer my Juicey boy to a psych ward for proper dealin’s of his mind.”

“Why do you want to help him so much, Filip? Naming that could be selling out a club or gang. You don’t peg me as a rat, Scotty.” 

“Aye. We have a deal or no’?” 

“I’ll have to write something up, run it past the officials, keep you in custody under protection until we can discuss the deal.” 

“I’ll wait ‘ere.” He wasn’t leaving until he knew what was happening to Juice, what could be done for him, and that he was safe somewhere getting the help he really needed. 

It might seem out of character for Chibs to help Juice out so much, or care so deeply, but if Althea said she saw the video of the meeting room that meant she saw the kiss and closeness between them. Anyone could read the body language from the brief handholding, kissing, then the closeness between them afterward. They would have to be blind, deaf, and dumb as bricks to miss it. 

In all honesty, what Juice said… well, law could only fix. He was tired of following Jax in his blind search for whoever killed Tara. His vengeance was strong, red, and blind. What was Jax going to do with this truth? Kill his own mother? What was he going to do about the beefs with the Chinese and Marx? Say ‘Oops? My bad. My crazy mother started this lie. Sorry, here’s some guns.’? Chibs only saw the end to this in a bloody war and he was fucking tired of his brothers dying or going psycho. 

It was a long while before Althea returned. Chibs had gone outside to chain smoke countless times before he was out of cigarettes and had nothing left to do besides sit around and wait. He had refused to be relocated, answer any calls, or walk more than ten feet from the entrance doors. 

Two hours later he was finally sitting down with the Sheriff and some investigator higher up whom he had entirely forgotten the rank and name of the lad. Couldn’t say he felt bad about forgetting either, to be honest. 

“Okay, Mr. Filip Telford. We are prepared to have Juice transferred to a criminals with psychotic tendencies mental health center to be evaluated and treated as necessary as long as the information you provide is accurate and has a strong lead. If your information is faulty, wrong, or a faux he will stay here and you will be charged with anything we can find to charge you with.”

That sounded like bullshit, the last part, but Chibs honestly didn’t plan on sticking around for long after this. Even though his love for Juice was making him do the right thing for the boy, his loyalty and love for the club was battling him with a heavy sword. 

They signed off with agreements and Chibs waited for the file to be closed and both eyes on him before he began speaking. 

“The mic was cut in the room, eh? Yeh heard nothin’ then?” 

The two nodded, Jarry was the one to speak, “Just saw what the cameras recorded. No mics were on.” 

Chibs took in a deep breath, ran his hands over his face, then his hair, and sighed. 

This was hard for him to do, but he did not love and care for Gemma like he loved and cared for Juan Carlos Ortiz. 

He then went on to tell the Sheriff and investigator everything Juice had told him. Explained how after he confessed the weapon, the person, and the location the truth being spoken had snapped Juice’s head and enticed the break. 

Chibs then gave his two cents. “Gem needs ta be stopped,” his voice was unsure, shaky almost, but he kept his ground, “Yeh can get a higher hand righ’ now. Somethin’ hasn’t been settlin’ with her. Hound her hard, Sheriff. She murdered her son’s wife and manipulated a vulnerable man into coverin’ her truth. You stop her, you stop Jax, stop it all.” 

Chibs stood up. He was finished talking shit about the mother of his club, about his club brothers, and he was finished being a rat. He was glad it was him, rather than Juice, whom admitted this to the authorities. He knew where Juice was being transferred to, and he had high hopes the pressure and guilt of the truth would bring Gemma down.

What happened to the rest of the club, he wasn’t sticking around to see. 

When he thought Juice was ready, he planned to visit him if it was safe for either of them. That all depend on what happened here, how he got to where Juice was, and what he did in between now and that future ahead of him. 

Chibs left the room, left the prison, got on his bike, and left. He stopped by his house to gather the cash he had stashed between the floorboards in his attic, grabbed some underwear, a blanket, his guns, and mount his bike. He rode off out of Charming and out of California. 

He rode east and didn’t look back until he was too tired to keep his arms up on the handlebars of his hog. By that time he was ten hours east from Charming in a town no one heard of at some shitty motel that smelled like mold and twenty year old cigarette smoke. 

The only sign Chibs left of his exit was the sight of his kutte on his kitchen table with SAMCRO Reaper staring up at the ceiling.


End file.
